Thoughts like Poison, Words like Ice
by ObsessiveBrunette
Summary: There's the upper class, and then there's the elite. The ones who never slip up, who never make mistakes. Or so it seems. But what goes on behind closed doors of the people so high up they can't see the ground anymore? Let's hope no one falls off the edge. SasuSaku AU
1. Prologue

**Thoughts like Poison, Words like Ice**

**There's the upper class, and then there's the elite. The perfect people, the ones who never slip up, never make mistakes. Or so it seems. But what goes on behind closed doors of the people so high up they can't see the ground anymore? Let's hope no one falls off.**

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They were both classically perfect, all cheekbones and graceful limbs, full eyelashes and soft, voluminous hair.

Not a wrinkle in their clothing or a bump on their skin. Flawless.

Everyone told them they were made for each other. Sakura would smile and laugh and titter a thank you, while Sasuke stood stoically and tipped his head in the complimenters direction, an arm around his female companion's waist, the perfect gentlemen. To the public, they had everything. Their lives were something to covet, desire. People longed for their beauty, their porcelain delicacy.

To the rest of the world, they seemed to have it all. The golden couple, both fragile and untouchable and utterly perfect.

It just goes to show how looks can be deceiving.

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**A/N: So this is really just a teaser and shouldn't even count as a prologue, but I really want to know if anyone will read this. Please, if you're interested, story alert this.**

**Much love,**

**ObsessiveBrunette**


	2. One

Sakura

I was so hungry. All I wanted to do was shove the hundred-dollar steak sitting in front of me down my throat.

I took a sip of water. Today I had already consumed 1,356 calories. Approximately. That meant I only had 172 to reach my caloric limit.

But I was so hungry.

I'm not anorexic. I don't binge or puke or starve myself. Every day I consume exactly the same amount of calories burned, so as not to attract any unwanted attention from the press. 'She's too fat', they say of a celebrity in April. 'She's too skinny', they say of the same star in May. So, my mother came up with the perfect solution for me.

Never gain wait. Never lose it.

The problem was, I needed to gain weight. I haven't been to the doctor in over three years, because they don't let me leave without gorging me on highly-caloric foods, trying to make me gain weight. To the doctors, "underweight" was my name.

The last time I had visited the doctor's office, they pumped muscle-building nutrients in to my blood. Well, that upset mother's system. We haven't visited again.

All this to fit in to a size double-zero dress.

I picked up my fork and pushed the meat around on my plate. Mother and Mikoto were chatting about "their good friend J Lo" and how they "couldn't wait to jet with her to Paris next week for shopping". Fugaku remained as stoic as ever. Itachi was absorbed in his food.

My father's old seat was empty. I stared at it for a moment, trying to imagine him there. It was so easy, to see him and Fugaku smiling their half-smiles as they discussed politics and sports and whose-yacht-was-bigger-than-whose. I quickly looked away, across the table at Sasuke, who had been staring at me all of dinner. When he caught my eye, he pointedly looked down at my untouched food, then back at me, annoyance in those eyes that most people couldn't read.

I took another sip of water.

He stood up from the table abruptly and stormed out of the room. Mother and Mikoto barely paused in their chatter for a moment. Itachi didn't even look up.

Sasuke hardly ever sat through a whole meal.

Only Fugaku watched Sasuke's silent but dramatic exit, and his eyes lingered on the door long after Sasuke had walked through. I would never be able to read his eyes. I wasn't sure I wanted to.

With a small cough, I stood up too. "Dinner was delicious as always. My compliments to your new chef. May I please be excused?"

"Of course, Sakura." Mikoto replied. "I'm glad you liked your steak." Though it was hidden well, I could still hear the tinge of worry and sadness behind her words. She knew I had no idea how the food tasted. Everyone did.

Even when we didn't have to, we were pretending.

.

I found Sasuke in an instant, where he always was. His favorite spot in the world was the penthouse roof. It looked over all of the city, sixty stories up, all the lives going by down below. They were obliviously aware of each other.

I shivered, my sleeveless floral dress not offering any protection from the winds up here. Sasuke was already shrugging off his coat for me, but I stopped him. "No. Not here."

He didn't have to be perfect for me here.

This was our place. It had been ever since that day. Away from the reporters, away from the cameras, away from our families even. No one knew about it but us.

He didn't push me to take the jacket, but he didn't put it back on either. Like if I was cold, he would be cold too. It was ridiculous. If I wasn't happy, he wouldn't let himself be either. "Sasuke," I warned, about to reprimand him. He cut me off.

"You should have eaten the steak."

"I know."

He didn't look at me, and I didn't look at him. I just moved to stand by him, leaning against the railing, watching the city lights flicker below. We stood like that for a long time, not saying anything. My phone buzzed three times. Finally, I just turned it off.

"A baker," I said suddenly. "In Paris. Making fresh croissants every day, chatting with my regular customers. I would pass the stale ones out to the homeless on my walk home every evening."

A half-smile danced across Sasuke's face. After all, this was our favorite game.

"A seal trainer," he said.

I laughed. "A seal trainer?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "You know, teach them to do tricks. Feed them fish."

"That's your most ridiculous one yet," I giggled.

Sasuke just shrugged. "It's a real job."

We always talked about what we would do with our lives if we weren't who we are. If we were just normal people, who could do whatever they wanted.

If we could do what made us happy.

I smiled. "Well, you tell me how that works out for you."

I had meant the comment to be light-hearted, but there was no cheer in Sasuke's eyes when he faced me, gently grabbing my hand, which looked so thin and pale and small compared to his large one. His eyes raked over my body, my child's body, flat where I should have curves.

My stomach growled. Sasuke looked me in the eye then, and his own eyes were so full of disappointment and anger and _worry_, so much worry that I sucked in a breath. "Tell me how that works out for you." he said.

I withdrew my hand from his and, as calmly as I could, exited the rooftop. I forced myself not to run to my room, though the walk felt like forever. When I finally got inside, I locked the door and walked over to my mirror, filled with pictures of my family and friends. But the only face I concentrated on was my own, and I watched, transfixed, as the first tear slipped out of the corner of my perfectly mascara-ed eye, followed by another and another and another. I just stood there, unmoving, watching a layer peel away with every tear.

Finally, my automatic lights turned off, and I cried myself in to the dark.

.

"So has he finally gotten in to your pants yet?" she asked unabashedly, stepping out of the fitting room to twirl in a tight purple dress. "And how about this one?"

I sighed. "You know it's not like that, Ino. And it looks just as amazing as the last seven you tried on."

Ino wrinkled her nose. "I know. That's the problem. I don't want as amazing. I want better than amazing." She sashayed back in to the dressing room, and I saw the purple fabric drop to the floor and get kicked to the side as if it weren't worth $5,000." She emerged again a minute later in a flowy green knee-length dress and took a look in the mirror. "Ew. And it could be like that, you know. Everyone already thinks you're banging each other anyways."

"What's wrong with that one?"

"Please, Sakura. This green is all wrong for my skin tone."

I rolled my eyes. "No color is wrong for your skin tone, pig. And just because everyone assumes we're sexually involved doesn't mean we have to be."

"But you could be. That boy would do anything you asked him to."

"I don't want to ask him to want me. He should just want me… shouldn't he?"

Ino snorted. "Oh please, Sakura. This isn't a twentieth-century romance novel. Sex isn't a big declaration of passion, it's just a way to let your hormones out."

"What hormones? It's Sasuke."

"Exactly. It's Sasuke."

I gave Ino a confused look.

"Just think. How many years have you been _'_together_'_? Four? Five? That's thousands of days' worth of suppressed sexual desire. It's all gonna spill out one day. So why not make it today?"

I didn't say anything. As much as Ino thought she knew, she was wrong about one thing. Sasuke didn't want me. We weren't passionate. We were comfortable.

That night had been a fluke.

_That night._

Against my will, the images flashed through my head, too fast, too fast. Not fast enough.

"_I could love you, Sakura."_

The words that kept me up on lonely nights, wishing Sasuke's body was there to give me warmth.

"_But I could hurt you just as easy."_

I pinched my arm, hard, enough to draw blood. The pounding in my head, started to quiet down, my vision clearing. I shook my head, hoping my voice would betray none of my emotion. "It's not like that, Ino. I like it the way we are."

"If you say so. All I know is, if I had a boy as delicious as Sasuke granting my every wish, hell yes I would take advantage of it." Before I could reply, she eyed the dress again with a look of disgust. "I can't have this fabric touch my skin any longer. Hold on a second."

A minute later, she exited her fitting stall, decked out in her designer pantsuit (with matching handbag) and her long, blonde hair pulled into an effortless high pony. It was impossible for Ino to look bad. She grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the store without a backwards glance, leaving some poor worker to clean up the mess of dresses we left behind.

"Honestly, is there not one decent dress in this mall?" she complained.

"There are plenty of decent dresses in that store alone," I chastised.

"Fine. Decent. But I'm not looking for decent-"

"I know, I know. You're looking for fabulous."

"Exactly."

Ino wasn't normally this uptight about what she wore on dates, but ever since her and Shikamaru hit six months (the longest out of all Ino's relationships), she had been positively anal about looking anything less than flawless around him. She would never admit it out loud, but I knew Ino better than I knew myself. She wanted to look good just in case he "popped the question" unexpectedly.

The absurdity of it made me fight a laugh. Ino, married? And at seventeen, no less! But Shikamaru made her happy, so I hadn't broached the topic. Instead, I tried not to whine as she dragged me in to the next store.

.

Three hours and approximately 5728945 dresses later, Ino and I were tired, hungry and, predictably, empty-handed.

"Fuck this," Ino said, whipping out her phone and hitting number two on speed dial (me being number one, of course). After two rings, Naruto's obnoxiously loud voice blasted through the receiver. Ino ignored whatever he was shouting about. "Naruto, we're going to Ichiraku. Pick us up in ten minutes. Bring Kiba and whoever-the-hell else you're with."

I was about to add that we were at the mall, but Ino had already hung up. Shrugging, I walked out to the parking lot and flopped on to the nearest bench. Naruto would figure it out. It's not like we were ever anywhere else.

Sure enough, Naruto's bright orange Lamborghini pulled in to the parking lot, and with a "Shotgun!" from Ino, we piled in. Kiba and I got comfortable in the backseat. He fingered my hair playfully, and I swatted his hand away. "Stop that!" I demanded.

He knew better. My hair is my baby.

He feigned hurt. "I was just going to braid it for you, Saki-poo," he said with puppy dog eyes.

I laughed. "You couldn't braid my hair if you tried."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. My eyes widened.

"No, Kiba don't!" But it was too late. My once perfectly-straightened hair lay in a giant knot atop my head. I glared at Kiba, who was trying and failing to hold back his laughter. "You suck."

"You love me."

I stuck my tongue out at him. Ino may have been my best friend, but Kiba was my oldest. His mom and my dad had been co-stars on countless movies, and the it-couple of their generation. Ever since we were kids, people have teased us, saying we were bound to get together, but it had never happened. Kiba didn't like to be tied down, and I had never been with anyone but Sasuke.

The car purred to a stop, and Ino and Naruto laughed without shame at my expense when I got out. "You look like you have sex hair!" Naruto exclaimed, ever the eloquent one. Ino patted me on the shoulder. "It's okay, Sakura, grunge is in right now. Besides, your forehead doesn't look as big as usual."

With a growl, I chased her inside to our usual table. Well, our usual room. Our food was already waiting for us on the tables, piping hot and positively mouth-watering. I sat down and took a sip of water.

"Eat some food, Sak," Naruto said, and for a second I was terrified that Sasuke had told them about our argument. Had it been an argument? I didn't know. But Naruto showed true sympathy in his eyes. I guess Sasuke wasn't the only one worried about me.

I smiled and shifted my noodles around on my plate.

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_Finally alone_, I thought to myself, collapsing on to my bed. I checked my watch. 2:47 am. So at least I would be getting five hours tonight.

Not bothering to change in to my pajamas, I snuggled under the covers and closed my eyes. I just wanted to sleep and never wake up.

"_We're happy, free, confused and lonely at the same timeeee, it's miserable and magical, oh yeahhh,"_ I let out a loud groan of frustration. Who the hell was calling me at three in the morning? Without checking caller ID, I slid to unlock. "What the fuck?"

Sasuke's steady voice answered, as emotionless as usual. "Come to the roof."

I groaned again and hit the 'end call' button. But after a few moments of deep breathing, I slowly sat up, grabbed an old sweatshirt and trudged up to the roof.

The first thing I noticed was the moon. It was full and bright, and I almost imagined I could see the stars for a moment. Then I reminded myself that this was New York. The only thing I saw in the sky was private jets and the occasional pigeon.

Then I noticed Sasuke leaning over the edge of the building, and my heart nearly stopped, my minding flashing back to that night, the first night. "Sasuke," I gasped.

My voice seemed to send a shock through him, and he looked at me, a haze seeming to leave his eyes. He gestured over to the old futon we had moved up here a couple years ago. "Sit with me." It wasn't a question.

I sat.

We didn't say anything at all for the rest of the night, but the last thing I remember before falling asleep is his fingers running through my hair. And I was happy. And we were okay.

But I wished we were more than okay sometimes.

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**A/N: Please favorite, alert, review, tell all your friends, shout this story out to the world, etc. Much love!**


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